| I’m a hustler, ladies man of course a playa
|
| My behavior, is somewhat similar to the majors
|
| Cause I be running game, everything that I say
|
| To a girl, is all derived from my immaculate nature
|
| When I pronunciate, my articulate game
|
| It appears that I’ve obtained, more game than I claim
|
| All I ask is for her name, and she ain’t never the same
|
| Am I just that cold, or are these other cats lame
|
| My conversation, is top of the line
|
| I’m spitting lyrics, to every last bopper that’s fine
|
| It’s like I’m rapping to the chick, she wanna stop and rewind
|
| And analyze my wordplay, while I’m dropping a dime
|
| Is it they pheromone, that’s attracting my style
|
| Or my luminance exuberant, expensive smile
|
| Either way I’m warmed up, and running game for miles
|
| I keep em on file, I holla in a little while
|
| Why you peeping me, do you like what you see
|
| I bet you never, met a playa like me
|
| You staring at me, wondering just who I be
|
| I’m sure you’d like to know, why a playa like me so thoed
|
| I’m coming at you with game so cold, you just got chose
|
| If you wanna roll, then let’s go
|
| Look here, I’ma be real with you
|
| Lil' mama’s all up in my picture, want me to stick her with my dill pickle
|
| My supreme, you need physique and superb
|
| My play on words, got em feeding me ordurves
|
| I’m making honey dips, lose they composure
|
| They begging me to come over, so they can get closer
|
| They want closure, from drinking they self sober
|
| Hoping that if they bend over, they’ll get bit by my cobra oh
|
| Girls is firing, to get rear ended
|
| By my extended cab, my sweet talk is splendid
|
| I come with game sharper, than Gillette Mach 3
|
| One of a kind conversation, you can’t out talk me
|
| They want position is this competition, they on a mission
|
| Wishing that they was kissing, on my composition
|
| They got ambition, they dream to manage my extension
|
| But this convention, into intermission
|
| On the real I got a mouthpiece, that’ll have em
|
| Dismantling they robe, and laying naked on my couch seats
|
| It don’t take much, everytime my mouse speaks
|
| I notice that the region, around they crouch leaks
|
| I graduated, from the MUSHU Academy
|
| Is that the reason, why these girls boyfriends mad at me
|
| Too much of my sugar, might give em a cavity
|
| And oh no we can’t have that, now can we
|
| My premeditated, propaganda
|
| Got em in they birthday suit, like a peeping Tom’s dancer
|
| Yeah they sexy, and I know that I’m handsome
|
| But don’t ask the question, if you don’t want the answer
|
| That means don’t ask, if I remember your name
|
| I probably don’t, but I bet I might remember your brain
|
| Straight up, I’ma tell it to you simple and plain
|
| I got game, is there any more questions |